


the butterfly con

by KatieBirdie



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Attempts at humor anyway, Badass Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Comedy, Crack, Gabriel Agreste is an Asshole, Gabriel Agreste's rapidly increasing blood pressure, Gen, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Humor, In which Alya learns her friends are agents of chaos, Just teens causing mischief like teens do, Marinette is a wild force to be reckoned with, Mild Language, Nathalie knows all, Nino will do anything for cookies, Noodle Incidents, One Shot, Ruining Gabriel Agreste's life, Swearing, T rating is due to all the swearing really, how to destroy a man's psyche in 5 hours or less: a guide for dummies, me rereading this: is this good? is this anything?, only in conversation and he gets the boot, reference to potential Alya/Nino/Marinette at one point, very very quick mention of a teacher acting gross about underage students
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:40:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21922312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatieBirdie/pseuds/KatieBirdie
Summary: Marinette has a plan. Alya and Nino are her very willing helpers.By the end of the week, Gabriel Agreste may or may not have his sanity in tact.( ...Hm. Maybe he did deserve to have his life ruined. Just a bit.Alya resigned herself to her destiny. “Ok, let’s fuck with Agreste.”Nino grinned widely, swinging an arm around her shoulders and fist pumping. “Hell yeah, babe, that’s the spirit! We’ll knock him flat on his ass like that.” He snapped his fingers for effect. Alya snorted, leaning into his side. Her boyfriend was a massive dork. )
Relationships: Alya Césaire & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Alya Césaire/Nino Lahiffe, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug & Nino Lahiffe
Comments: 59
Kudos: 510
Collections: Finished111





	the butterfly con

It was on a fine Tuesday morning that Alya found herself sitting at her desk an hour before class, turned so that she was mostly facing the door, chin propped up on clasped hands. Usually, she would arrive only ten or so minutes beforehand, but today was hardly shaping up to be a normal day. Or a normal week, really.

“...Do you think she’s going to reveal he’s Hawkmoth?” Nino asked from his slouched position, more to the empty room as a whole than to Alya. She could tell even without looking at him that he was only barely joking. 

She sighed, blowing the hair hanging in front of her face out and away. “I want to say no, but honestly I don’t know anymore.”

What had happened was this: the night before, at approximately one in the morning, Alya had woken up to a text from Marinette, which said _get to school at 7:30. Don’t tell anyone else what you’re doing, but especially not adrien. gabrial agreste is going down. I’ll explain it there._ After that she had responded to Alya’s many baffled texts back with a simple _nino’s coming too. get to sleep, you’ll need it_ and then stopped responding all together. 

She then received a text from Nino of a screenshot of a similar exchange, followed by a string of question marks, which itself was followed by a _what the fuck, babe_. In the moment, all she had been able to do was send her own screenshot and a shrug emoji, telling him they may as well go along with it. Even at her wildest, Marinette’s schemes were usually pretty fun, and by now her curiosity had been seriously piqued. 

Now seated at her desk, Alya found herself wondering if that text wasn’t the result of some late night delusion. Before she got too far into convincing herself, however, the lady of the evening— er, morning— herself arrived. Namely, she arrived by slamming the classroom open hard enough to make it bang against the wall, a huge cup of coffee in one hand, her (noticeably overstuffed) book-bag slung over her shoulder, and a black, binder-sized sketchbook tucked under her elbow. She was impeccably dressed, pigtails perfectly pulled together, with eye bags large enough to check in as baggage and an expression that promised wanton destruction. It was impossible to tell if she had even bothered to go to sleep or not.

“Alright,” she said, “get up. We’re taking this to a more secure location.” 

Alya and Nino traded alarmed glances. Well, Alya _tried_ to trade alarmed glances. Nino seemed remarkably chill about one of his friends potentially losing her mind.

“Secure location?” Alya tentatively asked, which was better than the litany of _what the hell_ that was going through her head. Seriously, what the hell.

“You think I’m going plot how to ruin a man’s life right where anyone can walk in? We’re going up to the roof.” Marinette’s eyes gleamed with righteous light. “‘C’mon, up, up!”

They got up. In short order both of them were hustled towards the roof of the school, breezing past two bewildered teachers, who seemed to be the only ones at the school at this time. One of them— a woman with blond hair who Alya thought maybe taught the year below— made as though to talk to them, but one good look at Marinette’s, well, _everything_ stopped her dead in her tracks. Otherwise, they walked without incident up the stairs, and Marinette kicked the rooftop door open; a terrifying move, considering she was _behind_ them at the time.

Once they were on the rooftop proper, Marinette dropped her bag, which made a distressingly metal _CLANG_ as it hit the concrete, and chugged the rest of whatever the hell was in her coffee cup. (Alya had seen Marinette’s usual order more than once, and calling it coffee would be misleading, considering how many metric tons of sugar, cream, and sprinkles she added to it. A crime against God and humanity was generally more accurate, and whatever she was using to power through the day right now was probably thirty times worse.) 

“Okay,” she said, “ruining Agreste. You guys in?”

Alya opened her mouth to ask _why in the hell—_ , but was cut off by Nino’s cheerful, “Sure! It’ll be Harper 2.0, yeah?”

She sent him the most baffled look she could muster, but Nino was as unruffled as ever. “Harper 2.0?” she asked, hopelessly. 

“Total creep of a teacher we had back in 11 ans*, kept acting weird around some of the girls— Rose mostly, but I don’t think she ever realized it. Marinette gave him hell before he could try anything; basically ran him out of town before siccing the cops on him.” Then, looking very proud, he added, “I was her look out.”

“You only did it because I promised you chocolate chip cookies,” said Marinette.

“And they were delicious,” Nino said, “but I was also doing it for justice!”

“I— you know what? Never mind.” For possibly the first time in her life, Alya decided she didn’t want to know, actually. She turned back to Marinette. “Please explain why we’re ruining Gabriel Agreste’s life.”

Marinette wagered her a look that made it clear she thought the reasons were obvious. Alya stared right back, refusing to back down. (One couldn’t afford to back down when it came to Marinette, else she would run wild like nobody’s business.) Marinette sighed, long and dramatically. She ticked the points off on her fingers as she spoke. “Because he’s a dick, his designs are trash, and I don’t like the way he treats Adrien.”

Nino continued to seem incredibly on-board. Alya wrote him off as a lost cause, and prepared to explain exactly why that was a bad idea, then paused. Marinette…wasn’t wrong. Gabriel Agreste was, in no uncertain terms, a pretty huge dick, even when accounting his workload. Alya’s mom had a stressful schedule too, and she didn’t go around acting like she had a steel beam shoved up her back side. And though she was no fashion critic, Alya was damn sure Candy Cane pants were hardly the height of fashion, and the man wore them nearly every day. 

His treatment of Adrien spoke for itself. Sure, he wasn’t starving the boy or anything (Though he did look a bit thin for the first week or two of school, presumably before whoever took care of his diet corrected for more activity.), but he sure did take the time to overfill Adrien’s schedule like hell, never show up for any of his many accomplishments, and mysteriously need him to do something when he managed to plan something with his friends. Just yesterday he had been shipped off to Italy for some random, unpredictable thing, effectively making their plans to go to the fair unusable.

...Hm. Maybe he _did_ deserve to have his life ruined. Just a bit.

Alya resigned herself to her destiny. “Okay, let’s fuck with Agreste.”

Nino grinned widely, swinging an arm around her shoulders and fist pumping. “Hell yeah, babe, that’s the spirit! We’ll knock him flat on his ass like _that_.” He snapped his fingers for effect. Alya snorted, leaning into his side. Her boyfriend was a massive dork.

They looked to Marinette, Nino prompting, “So, Mari, what’s the game plan?”

Marinette’s eyes glinted. “Well…”

* * *

Alya had regrets. Or rather, she _would_ have regrets, if she weren’t to busy having a helluva lot of fun. Things had started out weird, with the three of them breaking into the Agreste Mansion through Adrien’s window— which he apparently left unlocked at all times, which was fair considering how high up in the house his room was. After all, how was he supposed to know that Marinette had Spiderman-level suction cups? (Alya asked her about those afterwards. Marinette looked her dead in the eyes and said, “Youtube.” Ayla stopped questioning it.) 

They had begun just after midnight, and finished an hour before dawn began to break. Alya and Nino handled almost everything to do with the living room and office, while Marinette vanished for a hot minute down some random hallway, returning an hour later with a significantly less overstuffed book-bag and a cardboard box under her arm. A box making weird, quiet, indecipherable sounds. _Alya refused to ask questions._

The most time consuming act was shoving all of the furniture two inches to the right, and right behind it was coming up with ominous things to write on the scraps of paper Marinette provided them with from her sketchbook. She was partial to such ideas as _I BREATH_ and _WE KNOW YOUR SINS,_ while Nino tended to simply put down alarming single words like _ASLEEP_ or _REPENT._ It was great, at that wasn’t even including all the other minor, upsetting things they did.

Meanwhile, Marinette drew her seam ripper and set about carefully undoing what were probably weeks worth of sewing, all in such a way so it would only unravel when put on or the garment was otherwise stretched at the seams. It was a beautiful work of un-craftsmanship, and the sight of Marinette’s determined smirk had Alya considering discussing a “Marinette can _get it_ ” clause to her and Nino’s relationship.

Later. For now, Alya and Nino snuck into the kitchens and raided the fridge, doing whatever the hell they pleased with the food around the house that wouldn’t be immediately discovered and dealt with. (They also ate a lot of it. To be fair though, there was barely anyone in the house to enjoy the fine chocolates stuffed into the back of the cupboards besides them. They were delicious.)

Eventually though, their night of fun ended, and they went their merry way out the house through the worker’s entrance.

(“You mean we could have just walked right in, no suction cups required?” Alya demanded, not sure whether she was annoyed at Marinette for her extra-ness or Agreste for his terrible security practices.

Marinette shrugged. “I mean, yeah. But where’s the fun in that, Alya?”

“Yeah, babe, where’s the fun?” Nino echoed, grinning and knocking her shoulder with his.

Alya scowled. “Goddamnit, you’re right. The suction cups were way more fun.”

“Glad you see my point of view,” Marinette said, smug.”)

* * *

When Gabriel Agreste awoke in the morning, he was immediately welcomed with a vague sense of doom. After shrugging it off as his miraculous-induced empathy going a bit weird, he got up and began preparing for a busy day, both at work and at his...other job. 

This was a mistake.

He went to his office. After giving his most recent work for several well-renowned actors and actresses a quick glance— perfect, as they had been last night— he set them aside to be dealt with by lesser employees and moved to open his desk drawer— only to end up whacking his foot on his chair. Hissing in pain, he hopped back on one foot while clutching the other, accidentally hitting a lamp on the way.

Forcing himself to stand still for a moment, he surveyed the room. Now that he was looking, there was something… off about it. He just couldn’t figure out _what_. He circled around, squinting at everything. Nothing seemed out of place; the furniture all looked the same, the carpeting and walls were spotless, nothing had been removed. Had Chat Noir somehow mastered his bad luck enough to target him beyond a Cataclysm? Was this some revenge plot from Nooroo? Had he been cursed?

Gabriel forced himself to take a deep breath. Everyone had unlucky days, he reminded himself. Maybe it was nothing more than that. And if it was something more, then he would whether it with the same stiff upper lip all Agrestes commanded themselves with. Nothing would get the better of him.

Pleased with his own resolve, he strode forward to get on with his day— 

“FUCK.” _Goddamn desk chair._

Unbeknownst to Gabriel, his week would not be getting any better.

* * *

Gabriel stared blankly at his own hand.

Someone had put _jam_ on the underside of the doorknob. Strawberry jam, specifically. What the fuck.

He made his way to the nearest bathroom, muttering under his breath the whole way. Unthinkingly, he reached for the door handle with his un-jammed hand. He swore.

Now _both_ his hands were covered in jam.

* * *

The Peacock Pin was gone. He had just figured out what he was going to do with it, too.

* * *

Letting out a large sigh, he prepared to take a minute in his favorite chair. Today had been fucking exhausting, and it was barely noon.

He sat down, and seconds later found himself dazedly splayed on the ground, limbs akimbo and the remains of his now broken chair scattered under and around him.

_How?_

* * *

“...What do you _mean_ we have several bug infestations?”

The was muffled talk on the other line.

“How the hell did peanut butter get on the backsides of the drapes?”

More muffled talking, now distinctly panicked.

“ _It’s going to cost how fucking much?”_

* * *

He held the scraps of paper in his hands, face pale. They read, _I KNOW WHAT YOU DID, ASLEEP,_ and _UNDERNEATH._

He shoved them in his pocket. Later, he decided. He would deal with that later. It was fine.

* * *

“They just unraveled? That’s not how clothes work.”

Subdued muttering.

“ _They’re never working with us again?”_

* * *

Someone had replaced his butterflies with _crickets._

They were fucking _everywhere_.

* * *

Gabriel collapsed into the one chair in the house that seemed to be left un-tampered with. It was the most uncomfortable one, of course. A cricket hopped by.

Everything that could go wrong this week had gone wrong. He had lost the Pin, dozens of clients, and the sense of safety in his own home. He honestly wasn’t sure how he hadn’t lost the brooch yet, and had taken to sleeping with it on. Even now there was a miasma of despair wafting around the house. It smelled like sulfur.

He got a call. Wearily, he took it, preparing himself to learn that yet more of his clothes had mysteriously fallen apart the minute the model or superstar put it on. 

Muffled talk.

“Why the hell were there _eggs_ in all the _closets_?”

Dropping his head into his single free hand, he screamed. It was official. He had been cursed.

(From the relative safety of her own personal office, Nathalie smiled, adding _clear mental instability_ and _rage issues_ into her list of reasons why he was an unfit parent. She had to hand it to these kids, they sure knew how to break a man.)

* * *

_HIS BROOCH WAS GONE. HOW._

**Author's Note:**

> *11 ans is the french equivalent of 6th grade. that teacher is still rotting in jail
> 
> this is my first attempt at a purely comedic fic and i have no idea if it's good lmao. hope y'all like it!  
> also this was done in two batches and wasn't proof read, so keep that in mind 
> 
> major inspiration was taken from quicksilversquared's miraculous heist fics, as well as the many fun kleptomaniac!marinette fics on ao3 so go check them out!
> 
> Note: changed the title from "the butterfly scheme" to "the butterfly con", because i liked con better. that's it.


End file.
